From Playgrounds to Common Rooms
by xhearttowordsx
Summary: Slight AU in which Blaine and Kurt's paths almost crossed throughout their childhoods, and they were clearly meant to be right from the start. ONE SHOT.


**Hi everyone! I'm so sorry I've been MIA; I've been ridiculously busy for the past few months. I wrote this at some point and I finally got it to my beta and have some time to write with Hurricane Sandy canceling two days of classes. So here you go!**

**This is just a cutesy slight-AU in which our boys almost crossed paths throughout their lives.**

**As usual, they don't belong to me. I just like to have fun.**

******Hope everyone enduring this Frankenstorm on the east coast stays safe!**

* * *

Blaine was four years old. He sat in the sandbox with the girl his mom told him to play with before she settled into the bench nearby, smiling as she started talking to the man already there. Blaine wasn't entirely happy about it but glad to just have someone next to him.

He shyly asked if he could play with her, and she nodded curtly with a wide smile before thrusting a bucket at him that looked like a castle. They worked together on a crude sandcastle, but she took more and more control until all her pails were strewn behind her and Blaine only had a small shovel and the toy Corvette he'd brought with him. (His big brother Cooper had given it to him for his birthday and he loved it so much, he took it everywhere if he had a pocket to keep it in.) He settled for making hills for his car, happy to pretend and not be completely alone.

Soon he got bored and watched the other kids running around on the playground. He saw the boys in his class that were mean to him, the girls that loved his hair, some of Cooper's friends (_the cool big kids, whoa_) riding bikes. Everyone was playing with someone, talking to someone, looking for someone.

Blaine felt more alone than ever.

He looked over his shoulder at his mom, deep in conversation with the man beside her, and sighed, returning his gaze to the park.

Under a tree just on the other side of the playground sat a little boy near his age at a picnic with his parents, cradling a doll wrapped in a yellow and blue blanket. Blaine never saw boys holding dolls unless their moms or sisters made them, or they were being mean to girls; he _liked _that this boy was different, that he didn't seem to care what anyone thought, and his family just looked so happy it made Blaine's heart hurt.

And he was pretty. Wow, this boy was _pretty_. His hair was the same color as his mom's and he had fair skin that looked so _soft_ even from where Blaine sat. He wasn't wearing play clothes like everyone else; instead he wore khaki shorts and a purple button up shirt with short sleeves, with a bow at his neck. (Blaine especially _loved_ the bow and wanted one, too. He'd have to remember to ask his mom or Cooper about it.) Then the boy's mom leaned over and said something, and he giggled. Blaine could just barely hear it over everyone else, but it was the most beautiful laugh he'd ever heard.

He wanted to be friends with this boy, this pretty boy with brown hair and neck bow and perfect laugh. The girl in the sandbox was already talking to a gangly boy with cropped dark brown hair that happened to walk by, and she had clearly forgotten Blaine was even in the sandbox at all. He stood and pocketed his toy car, ready to tell his mom he wanted to go across the playground to say hi.

"Come, Blaine, let's get some ice cream."

Before he could even turn around, his mom strode briskly to him and gently pressed a hand between his small shoulders to urge him forward. She looked mad, annoyed, disgusted, and Blaine knew not to fight it. She threw a glare over her shoulder at the man on the bench who also looked mad now, but in a different way – like he was hurt, and sad, and frustrated. The girl he had been sitting with in the sandbox finally looked after Blaine and his mom, then turned her confused little face to the man before running to scramble into his lap. Blaine thought that he must be her dad, but she didn't look a lot like him.

He wondered what it would be like to be welcomed into his parents' laps like that. Suddenly he really wanted to go home to see if Cooper was home from school yet to play with him.

They exited the park on the far side of the playground. For as long as he could Blaine watched the little boy with the swaddled doll and nice clothes, sad that he didn't get to make a friend.

...

Blaine was eight years old, and really didn't like hospitals. They were cold and creepy and always had a funny smell. The walls were too white and the floors too squeaky. There were too many wires and too many machines. Most people he saw looked sad or like robots; Blaine couldn't decide which was worse.

Stupid Cooper got hurt on his stupid skateboard. Why did he think it was smart to build a ramp out of cardboard boxes? Even Blaine knew that was dumb, and his brother was ten years older. Blaine had been terrified when he heard the scream and saw the fall and the blood and Cooper's face twisted in pain, his friends standing around like dumb fish not knowing what to do.

So they were in the hospital while Cooper got checked and cleaned up and bandaged and tested. Blaine couldn't stand seeing his brother in the bed with all the machines around him (he was seriously terrified his brother was going to die even after everyone said he was okay, and all the medical terms started making his head hurt). When Blaine couldn't stop sniffling his father heaved an exasperated sigh and shot a look at his mother, who guided Blaine to the waiting room a few doors down.

"Stay here, honey."

He opened his mouth to protest – why did he have to sit there alone? Hospitals were scary and people were running everywhere and it still smelled funny in the hall and the chair was stiff and sticky – but she patted his hair and told the nurse at the desk to watch him. The nurse nodded and looked at him sadly, holding out a container of lollipops. Blaine scrubbed at his eyes and shyly shuffled over to the desk.

"You can take two, sweetie." Her encouraging smile made him feel a little better and he fished out his favorite flavors – blue and green. His lips quirked up at the corners as he unwrapped the green one and returned to his seat at the end of the row.

Mere minutes passed before a big man in a baseball cap and plaid shirt trudged from a room on the other side of the waiting area. He cradled a thin boy – maybe around Blaine's age – who had his chin hooked over the man's shoulder, a piece of brown hair falling over his forehead. The man's face was tense and sad with shining eyes, and the boy's was wet and blotchy with his own eyes screwed tightly shut.

Blaine's heart hurt as he watched them sit on the couch, the boy instantly curling up in the man's lap. (Blaine guessed it was his dad with a tiny pang of jealousy.) The boy's shirt was messily halfway tucked into his black jeans and the collar limp. Something about the boy pulled at a thread in his memories, and Blaine had no idea why they seemed so familiar somehow. He just knew he wanted to make the boy smile because seeing him sad was the most painfully beautiful thing he'd ever seen and his happiness was sure to be even better.

Just as he couldn't bear to watch their sadness any longer and was about to decide if he should leave or go try to comfort them or at least offer the boy his other lollipop, his mother bustled out of the room with his father pushing a grinning Cooper in a wheelchair.

"Hey Squirt, look! I got a green cast on my leg!"

Blaine forced a smile at his brother before shooting a glance back at the sad boy and his dad.

"I'm gonna have everybody sign it – even you, little bro! And all the chicks are gonna love it! They'll think I'm such a bad–"

"Okay, Cooper, we get it, you're cool for being reckless," their father chuckled, before his voice lowered to add, "come on, Blaine."

Blaine just sighed and followed his family out of the hospital. He hoped the boy and his dad would be happy soon.

...

Blaine was barely fifteen, walking through the mall with some of his new friends. He'd transferred to Dalton Academy at the start of the school year and had found fast friends in Wes and David, but was still surprised to be invited to the mall one weekend in November. He was a little jumpy even if almost a year had passed since _that _night; he still couldn't help glancing around every once in a while because he was outside the safety of Dalton and what if someone found him and said something – or worse, _did_ something? So he walked along with a small smile, eyes darting around every few minutes, jumping into the conversation whenever he felt wouldn't be too obtrusive.

Instead of a real lunch the boys bought trays of fries and onion rings and sodas, sitting around a table at the edge of the food court to share the snacks as they killed time before a movie. Blaine was soon coaxed straight into the discussion of music and couldn't contain his excitement as they encouraged him to audition for the Warblers. Eventually the conversation trailed off to movies and Blaine sat back to take a drink of his Dr. Pepper, glancing around at the shoppers walking by.

He noticed a boy probably around his age walking towards them with two girls, all carrying large shopping bags and laughing. Blaine forced his eyes away for fear of attracting attention, but there was no doubt that the boy was striking and…well, _beautiful. _He wore a bright red sweater that ended mid-thigh over dark jeans and a black newsboy cap perched atop his brown hair. His features were delicate, yet somehow sharp and angelic with his fair skin, and the sweater just accentuated his slender waist and long legs.

Blaine prayed his face wasn't as red as the boy's sweater; it certainly felt that way.

Suddenly he snatched the last onion ring and stuffed it in his mouth, laughing along with the rest at whatever joke Jeff was telling as the three passed behind him.

In his peripheral vision he noticed the bright red sweater stand near a pillar with the two girls, probably trying to decide what to eat. Blaine offered to throw away the plates just so he could get a closer look at the boy, just for a moment, without being too creepy. (Okay, he knew he was creepy but this boy's face was something so unique and yet familiar that Blaine needed a second look. The trashcan he approached was still far enough away that the boy may not even see him look up.)

Blaine's breath caught in his throat as he spotted the boy's profile but quickly looked away as the boy turned. He couldn't be caught staring.

He hustled back to the table as the Dalton boys stood to walk to the movie theater.

At the last second he took a peek over his shoulder and could have sworn the boy was looking their way. He blushed, glad to be at the back of the group, and hoped that maybe one day he would have the courage to approach a boy like that.

...

Blaine was sixteen, and hustling off to an impromptu Warblers performance. He was always ecstatic to perform, but this was only his second time leading at a pop-up show and he was buzzing. Life had been a bit of a drag recently and he was so looking forward to just letting loose and singing with his friends.

_I've got to go around these guys if I'm going to be there before the rest of the school. Maybe I can just –_

"Excuse me? Um, hi, can I ask you a question? I'm – I'm new here. "

Blaine spun around as he reached the bottom of the stairs, caught off-guard by the soft voice raised above the din of hustling students. What – rather, _who_ – Blaine saw stopped him dead in his tracks; his mouth fell open for a moment when he locked eyes with the most stunning boy he had ever seen.

Somehow managing to remember his manners as the Dalton boy he was, he snapped his jaw shut and smiled as he extended his hand.

"My name's Blaine."

"Kurt," the boy supplied breathlessly.

_Kurt, you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen where do I know you from you're so familiar and so unique and what is wrong with me he is asking me something –_

"So, what exactly is going on here?"

"The Warblers!" Blaine explained the performance and invited the boy to follow.

When their hands met, a jolt shot through Blaine.

When he noticed Kurt's enrapt gaze locked on his every move as he began to sing, something warm settled in his chest.

When Kurt's lips melted into a smile, that warmth bloomed and spread throughout his body all the way down to his toes.

He couldn't keep his eyes off Kurt.

_You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream._

_Let me be your teenage dream._

The final notes trailed off. Blaine only saw Kurt's wide grin, sparkling eyes and rapturous applause.

It was all he really wanted.

...

Blaine was seventeen, and he found Kurt in the Commons. Kurt, stunning as ever, even in his Dalton uniform.

God, Kurt was beautiful.

Kurt was decorating…something. Containers of glitter and rhinestones littered the table as he worked studiously.

Blaine approached awkwardly and sat, confessing he wanted to sing something "more emotional" for their duet. He looked down at the table bashfully.

Kurt asked why Blaine picked him for the duet.

Blaine's heart swelled in his chest. _Well, I guess that was what I came here to say._

He blinked to gather himself._ Here goes._

And so he poured his heart out on the table beside the glitter.

"Oh, there you are, I've been looking for you forever." _I didn't even realize but I looked for your blue-green eyes in every face, your chestnut hair on every head, your porcelain skin, the narrow slope of your nose. _

Something clicked in his mind.

_I've been looking for you since we were four. No, since I was _born.

Kurt's eyes watered as Blaine covered his hand, and he blinked rapidly to keep them clear, to keep them trained on Blaine's.

Under his gaze Blaine floundered for the words.

"You move me, Kurt."

_Do it now move do it he's right there kiss him movenowmoveKISS–_

Blaine listened to his instincts and leaned forward to cup Kurt's cheek, capturing his lips in a kiss so perfect he could have sworn he heard angels singing. (Angels that sounded a lot like Kurt.) The second Blaine feared it was too much and too wrong – _bad so bad oh my god what have I done_ – Kurt's hand flew up to pull him closer.

And it was even better. Kurt was kissing back.

_My missing puzzle piece._

They broke apart with a gasp, bashful and shocked and so happy they felt their hearts would burst.

Then they kissed again. And again. For hours. Eventually they took a break to practice their song. But then they kissed again.

_I'm complete._


End file.
